zen and suffering part intimate (there is no sudden or gradual)

all of your friends are
balloons, bright
thin skin stretched
tight over emptiness.

the slightest
disturbance
causing them to sway,
drift.

all of your friends are
a trick of
form.

all of your closest
friends are great
gaseous giants,
to your small empty
density. to your opaque
weight. you
heave yourself
again and
again into the air
to meet them.

you fall again
and again back
into the depressions
made of your weight.

all of your friends are
bubbles made of
rainbow, made of
spit. all of your
friends are floating
in front, behind,
just outside,
your dreams made of
no form.